All I Crave is Mercy
by rebuild-your-ruins
Summary: All his life, Johnny Cade has had fists flying at him. But what happens when his old man takes it too far? -Story is, in fact, better than this summary- JohnnycakexDally
1. Chapter 1

All I Crave is Mercy Ch1

Pain was never a stranger to me.

It had always been there, and would always remain there. It followed me. I couldn't escape it no matter how hard I ran, or how many times I left the hell-hole which doubled as home; the pain was always there.

Sometimes, the pain would subside. It would ease, drift off into a different place. But it would come back. It always comes back. No matter where I hid, no matter how drastically I would try to push it out of my broken and clotted mind, it would always be back to haunt me.

The pain would never go away, and I knew that. But what was I to do about it? What could I have ever done to put an end to the chase, to demolish my pain, my fear, my hurt? Nothing. Nothing known to me would ever end, it, and I'd play this game to the end. Because of all the things a human can fix, scars aren't one of them.

. . .

Sometimes when I was particularly lucky, the pain would be so incredibly immense, it would knock me out cold. I would drop like stone onto the floor, and even once I had woken up, I would remain there. It was better when the pain knocked me out. Then I didn't have to deal with it directly. I could let it pass, even if it was only for a minute. My old man would throw that last punch, would drop the final kick, and the pain would ease, and I didn't have to worry anymore. I could just forget the world, and my pain and my fears. I could put it all behind me. I could simply float in a wave made of anything but reality, and lose myself in an ocean of nothingness.

Tonight was not one of those nights.

My old man had gotten home awfully wasted, and if I had known beforehand, I would never have come home. I'd have spent the night at the lot. But I hadn't known before hand, and so as soon as my dad entered the house the scent of alcohol stumbled toward me, much like the old man himself did.

By the time my old man had gotten to me, I was already prepared for the worst. I breathed in, breathed out, and then closed my eyes. I wasn't scared.

I had grown up with fists flying at me. I lived in a whirlpool of pain. It tried to pull me under, it used all its strength to drown me; but I never gave in. No matter how badly I wanted to, no matter how **easy** it would have been. I didn't let it engulf me, I didn't let it swallow me.

My cheek stung suddenly, yanking me from my thoughts. My dad's hand had extended, left its infamous mark as it retracted, and sprung out once more.

But I just stood there and took it. That bothered the old man. He did this for the satisfaction of a reaction. If there was no reaction from me, then hell, he might as well just go off and buy himself a punching bag.

The fact that I made no noise, no movement, no reaction to the pain, only made my old man angrier, and the tidal wave of an unstoppable fury would wash over him.

It was then that I would start to worry. I wouldn't be scared, but boy would I worry. I had every reason to worry that night. Because that night, everything I'd hoped wouldn't happen, did.

**PLEASE READ THIS EVEN IF IT IS AN **_A/N:_

_Hope you enjoyed! I'm just thinking about making this into an actual something, so if you liked this, please review. If I don't get too many reviews about this, I most likely won't be continuing it. But if I do, I'll make a chapter a lot longer than this one, I realize it's a rather short chapter. Dally will be pulled into the story in the next chapter, so please review!_

_-Attempting-To-Stay-Gold-_


	2. Chapter 2

All I Crave Is Mercy Ch.2

I have always loved Dallas Winston.

Not in the way Steve loved Evie, of course. But more in the way Ponyboy loves Sodapop. Dally was my Sodapop. He wasn't _always_ by my side or anything. Hell, he wasn't _always _in the same state. But when he was, he was really there. He built up a false assurement for me, and illusion that told me was always there to stay. But he wasn't. Not really. He would eventually drift off to god knows where, and I'd be left alone. I wasn't really alone, I had the whole gang there with me, but when Dally wasn't there, it ws practically parallel to being alone. Like being in a crowd full of strangers. When I was with Dally I felt safe. I felt tuff too, but more safe than tuff. When I was with Dallas Winston I… I felt like I didn't have an abusive father waiting to slug me when I got home. I felt like I had a mom who anticipated the moment I got home. Dallas was my ticket out of reality, in a way.

He was my lantern in the vast darkness. He was always there for me, even if he wasn't physically _there._ With Dallas Winston I felt complete. With Dallas Winston I felt safe.

Hell, maybe I do dig him like Steve digs Evie.

/

My father, though abusive, was always fair. He usually didn't use knifes, and guns were never an option, though that's only because he didn't own one. He fought with his body, never with weapons. Honestly he never had any reason to do so. Why use a weapon when you can accomplish so much by hand?

Like usual that night, the old man grabbed me by my hair and pulled me well up off the ground. He was quite tall, my old man was, maybe even taller than Darry. So I got pretty spooked when he lifted me up over his head. I closed my eyes just as the sensation of falling hit me. It hit me almost as hard as I hit the wall. It hurt, but I wouldn't yelp. I wouldn't scream. I wouldn't do anything. I wouldn't give him that satisfaction.

He kicked and punched. Every single time he touched me, the pain hit full on. The pain would never just slur together, it would all hurt individually. Every wound made itself known; every scrape of a nail, pound of a kick, everything. I felt everything.

The wave of abuse was suddenly on me; I couldn't stop its wrath. It was looking me in the eyes, and I would find no way around it no matter how hard and desperately I searched. It was like the feeling you get when you first notice a Soc's corvair is suddenly on your heels. It'll be there every time you look back until you take it head-on. Even if you ran a thousand miles to get away, you never truly would. You have to meet up with it eventually. That's exactly how my pain is. It's never-ending and long-lasting.

Soon I was engulfed in my thoughts and the pain began to ease. He hadn't stopped; if anything he wasa now using all the force he could muster. My thoughts were distracting me. I thought maybe if I just kept thinking- but a sudden and sickening _crack_ met my ears. I let out a moan, and my old man snickered.

All of the pain came flooding back in. Every fiber of my body felt as if it were on fire.

He had broken at least one of my ribs, and the pain was searing and overpowering me. If I had glided my nimble fingers across my torso at that moment, I would've felt the broken bones. If you don't think having broken ribs hurts like hell, you're crazy. I had no idea how Dal could just 'sleep it off'.

The pain was immense; the worst I had felt in a while. I wrapped my arms tight around my body and curled into a ball, unable to take any more of his punishment. The pain was killing me- My whole body was being racked by an unexpected spell of shaking. I felt like I was going to puke, the pain was so bad. The old man must've noticed, because he went crazy. He kicked harder, punched harder, he even spit on me at one point. I'm not sure if he really had just given it all he had, or if the pain I was going through just intensified everything. Finally, for the grand finale, he dropped a kick onto my left side, and the pain in my ribs burned with such an intense pain that I screamed, and I felt hot tears run down my cheeks.

He must've been satisfied with my reaction, because once he was through with grinning madly down at me, and spitting on me, he lost interest, and stalked off to his bedroom.

I lay there for at least twenty minutes, my eyes wide, and tremors racking my body. The hot tears were still coming, as I knew they would be for a while. So I just lay there, wondering what I was supposed to do now. If I stayed here, in hell, my old man was sure to kill me this time. I had no doubt in my mind that was what he was aiming for. He'd kill me, and he's stay there, stooped over top of me, that same sick, mad grin on screwing up his aged features. I couldn't stay here. I wouldn't be safe.

I could have gone to the Curtis', and honestly I don't know why I didn't. But in the end, I found myself trudging alone on the darkened streets of Tulsa, Oklahoma, heading to the place I dreaded almost as much as my home: Buck Merrill's house.

I had to find Dallas.

_A/N:_

_Thanks for reading! I know it's been forever since I updated, I'm real sorry about that! I've been dealing with the worst writer's block lately. Apologies~! _

_PLEASE REVIEW! REVIEWS MAKE EVEN THE WORST DAY THE BEST IN THE WORLD!_


	3. Chapter 3

All I Crave is Mercy Ch.3

I wrapped my arms around myself, clutching at my sides as if I believed my innards were about to fall out. It certainly felt like they were.

I stood up shakily. My knees wobbled, and almost buckled, but I stopped myself somehow before I hit the ground. I felt like I was about to get sick, the pain was so excruciating. I foolishly wished I'd just keel over from it. At least then I wouldn't have to deal with it anymore.

I walked as silently as my shaking legs would allow; Careful not to attract the attention of my dad. I reached the door, and just as I had it open, I was bombarded by the worst, most mind-blowing pain I've ever experience. And that's saying a lot. It was radiating from my broken bones; I was positive there was more than just one by then.

I bit my lip to keep the tears from spilling once again, and I tried, yet failed, to repress a moan. My shoulders were shaking, and my stomach felt rotten I was so nauseous.

Though I was certain it never would, the pain eventually stopped, and I trudged my way through the streets of Tulsa. I didn't care if any Socs found me or not, I had to get to Dally. He could help me. He would always be able to help me.

/

I could hear Hank Williams a street down from my destination. How the hell that guy can stand to listen to that, I don't know. I ignored it- it was easy to ignore things at the moment, with all the pain I was in. It simply took my mind off of things.

As I approached the house, I would see the silhouettes of people.

''Great'', I thought to myself sarcastically, ''A party.''

A crowd of drunks really wasn't what I needed right now.

But I was desperate for help, so I made my way to the house and knocked on the door. No-one answered. I guess the shrill sound of Hank Williams drowned out every other sound. So I knocked harder, and harder, until I was practically pounding on the door. No-one answered.

I had to get to Dally. He'd make my pain stop, he's fix it; Make me feel better. Dallas Winston was my only option at the moment. So I opened the door, and walked inside.

/

Every single head turned when I entered the house of Buck Merrill. They stared at me, their drunken eyes seemed glossy in the light.

Before I could explain, before I knew what was happening myself, I was slammed against the wall. The breath was knocked out of my lungs, and a searing, almost blinding pain hit me full-on. My breathing hitched, and was suddenly coming in shuddering gasps. I couldn't help it-

I was scared.

/

I quickly figured that the hand gripping so tightly at my throat belonged to Buck Merrill.

He glared at me, a drunken, yet gloomy, smile plastered to his ugly face.

''You shouldn't be here, kid.'' He grumbled. I gulped; well, tried to gulp. It was pretty hard with his hand latched onto my throat the way it was right then. Words stumbled out of my mouth- though they weren't too coherent. I clawed at his hands, I yelped, I did everything I thought would help get him off of me. For the second time that night, I was positive I was going to die. So you can imagine my relief when I heard familiar voice say-

''Get the fuck off of him.''

Dallas!

_A/N:_

_Thanks for reading! I love all the reviews you all have sent me so far! The reviews are honestly what keeps this fan fiction going. I'd like to give a special thanks to _Johnnycake Sunrise, _and _Pretty Vacant 79 _for giving me the best, and longest, reviews I've ever gotten! Thanks so much!_ _You all are awesome! And sorry for the short chapter, I tend to make my chapters short and sweet. xD_

_Stay gold~_


	4. Chapter 4

All I Crave is Mercy Chapter 4

''I said get the fuck off of him.'' Dally repeated, but in a louder, fiercer voice. Buck's hand slowly slacked off, and I slid down onto the floor. As much as I hate to admit it, I was crying.

Tears were streaming down my face, and my shoulders were shaking; the sobs racked my whole body. My ribs hurt. My neck hurt. _I _hurt. _Bad. _I just wanted Dallas to help me. To hold me in his arms and tell me everything would be alright. Nobody ever tells me things will be alright. Not even the gang. They don't even try to convince me. Because things won't be okay. They will never be okay. Not for me. That's just the kind of life I lead.

Dallas walked over towards me, stopping only momentarily to punch Buck in the jaw. Luckily, he was so out of it he just glared, and then stalked off. Dallas grabbed me and picked me up, then proceeded to carry me back upstairs to the room he usually occupied while staying with Buck.

He sat with me on the bed until I stopped crying. I buried my face in his shirtless chest and he wrapped an arm around me. He rested his hand on my head and kissed the top of my hair.

''Johnny, man, what happened? How come you're here, man?'' he asked. People believe Dally is just some cold-hearted wiseass with no real emotion. They're wrong. That's just how he portrays himself.

''M-my-'' I moaned, clutching my sides. The nausea I had felt before came back and I mumbled, ''Dal, I'm gonna throw up…''

He quickly grabbed the little trash can on the other side of the room and put it in front of me- just as I puked. I was shaking. Dal had a look of disgust painted onto his face, but he rubbed my back comfortingly until I was finished.

We sat in silence after that- Dally had his arms wrapped around me and I clutches at my torso. We just sat there. Dal rocked me back and forth and I rested my head on his chest.

''It was your old man, wasn't it.'' This wasn't a question. He already knew the answer. He stopped rocking and looked down at me with those icy blue eyes of his. His face was hard; I couldn't read it. I couldn't tell what he was thinking. Ponyboy was lot better at those kinds of things than I am, but I bet even Pony wouldn't have been able to even guess what was going on in Dallas Winston's head right then.

''Wasn't it, Johnny.'' I looked away from him, focusing on the floor.

''He hurt me real bad this time, Dal.'' I mumbled and I looked up at him.

''What'd he do? Are you okay?'' he started throwing questions at me while his eyebrows furrowed deeper and deeper out of concern.

''My ribs…'' I said. I meant for the words to come out louder- more audible- but they left my mouth in a mere whisper.

''Take off your shirt, kid.'' He said with a sigh. He stood up. He must've noticed the blush I tried to hide, because he quickly added, ''I gotta check you out. Make sure you're okay, man.''

I nodded slightly and took my shirt off, trying not to wince. Even I was surprised by what I unveiled from beneath my shirt.

A large majourity of my chest was canvassed a violent purple, with splotches of green and blue scattered about just to top things off. There were cuts and scrapes of various sizes. But the area around my ribs was by far the worst. It was stained a sickening purplish-red, and you could actually feel the broken bones when you ran your hand along it.

Dally's face contorted with anger. It lit up with a dangerous expression as he looked at my body.

''Dammit, Johnny, why didn't you tell me sooner?'' he said as he entered the bathroom connected to the room we were currently in. he came back a second later with a wet wash cloth in his hand.

''Lay down, baby, I'm gonna see how many ribs that fucker broke.'' I obeyed, and laid on my back. Dally sat down at my side, and used the wash cloth to clean off all the blood; which there was plenty of, I assure you. When he was finished, he sat it aside and started gliding his fingers along my chest, trying to estimate the damage done to my ribs, and how many we needed to be worrying about. I winced, moaned, and eventually cried out in pain.

''Dally p-please, just s-stop!'' I cried and tried to push him away.

''Johnnycake.'' He said, looking down at me with more concern than I had thought he was capable of showing. He laid down next to me and wrapped an arm around me, careful to steer clear of my ribs.

''Baby you need to just let me kill that bastard. We could high tail it, get out of here,

we-''

''Dally.'' I whined, closing my eyes.

''What is it?'' he asked immediately, sitting up and staring at me with those beautiful eyes. ''Are you alright?''

I smiled weakly.

''I'm alright.'' My body proved me wrong by throwing a wave of pain through itself. I winced and groaned.

Dally wrapped both arms around me and pulled me close to him. I buried my face into his chest and messed with the necklace he had dangling around his neck. A question suddenly popped into my head; a question I had asked myself tons of times, and one which I pondered quite often. Though the question never left my lips. Honestly, I was afraid of the answer. But that night, I felt so comfortable laying there next to Dally that I decided to take a chance, and ask him the question which had forged itself into my mind.

''Why do my parents hate me so much, Dal?''

''Who cares? My old man doesn't give a shit about me, so why even give a fuck, man?'' he kissed the top of my head, ''Besides, as long as I'm here, you don't need anyone else's love. You're all I got, and vice versa, you know what I mean, man?'' he lifted my head up and pushed our foreheads together, ''I love you Johnnycake. You gotta remember that, man.''

''I love you too, Dal.''

_A/N:_

_Thanks for reading! I know this chapter was a little sloppy, and I'm sorry! I did get two chapters in today though, and for that, I'm rather proud. Honestly it's because I spent all day writing; I was just in the mood to write today. PLEASE REVIEW, THEY'RE WHAT KEEPS THE MOTIVATION FOR THIS STORY GOING!_

_Stay gold!_


	5. Chapter 5

All I Crave is Mercy Chapter 5

I expected to wake up the next morning in a warm bed with Dally's arms still embracing me as he slept, with our legs intertwined. I didn't.

Instead I woke up in a cold bed with Dally nowhere to be seen. His brown leather jacket was laid carefully on top of me. My head throbbed almost as painfully as my ribs, which screamed in agony as I moved to sit up. The pain was possibly even worse than yesterday, though it wasn't as immediate. I felt as though someone had stabbed me in the ribs and given the knife a good twist.

The pain I was going through, mixed with the realization that Dallas was nowhere to be found suddenly made me panic. I was alone. In Buck Merrill's house. He had tried to kill me last night; what if it was him who wondered into the room instead of Dally? How was I to hold him off? Tears of frustration and anxiety ran down my face and a quivering sob escaped my lips before I could help myself.

Immediately Dallas came barging through the door to the bathroom. He was at my side in a record breaking speed which would have given Ponyboy a run for his money. He had shaving cream decorating only half of his face, and heart-breaking concern was swimming in his cold, electric blue eyes.

''Johnny, man, what're ya cryin' for?'' He asked.

''My ribs… It hurts, Dallas…'' I whispered. My voice was full of dramatic agony. He sat up from the bed and I gasped, reaching out and grabbing his shirt. Why was he leaving? He turned around and looked at me, gently taking my hand off of his shirt.

''I'm gonna get you some ice, babe, it's alright. I'll come back.'' And he left, shaving cream still dripping from his features.

/

I don't like being alone.

It's a sort of phobia I have. Monophobia, I think it's called.

I don't like being alone, but I always end up that way in the end. Alone. Even if I'm not alone, even if I'm surrounded by people, I still feel the emptiness accompanying lonesomeness. If I were to talk to someone about it, they'd say I was depressed. With every reason to be too- but I'm not.

Being beaten on by my old man, being beaten on by Socs seeking out the weakling of the group, being alone even though it scares me, none of it matters. None of it matters. None of it matters because I still hold onto the fact that things might get better. It's only a possibility but it's better than nothing. At least I have something to hold onto. That's still more than Dal has.

/

Dallas came back a few minutes later with a baggy full of ice and sat down next to me on the bed. He pulled my shirt up. I told him where it hurt the most, and he laid the ice gingerly onto my bruised stomach. It felt nice, but the pain remained the same.

After he'd finished all he needed to do, which included shaving the remainder of his face, Dally settled down beside me and peered at me.

''How come you were so spooked when I left earlier? When I was goin' to get the ice?'' He asked. I had been wrapping locks of his white blonde hair around my finger, but stopped and looked at him.

''I don't like it here, Dal.'' I said simply.

''It is 'cause of last night? With Buck?'' he asked.

''I just don't like it. 'Specially when you're not around.'' I didn't want to tell him he was right about last night. He probably thought I was weak enough as it was, what with all the sobbing I've been doing lately. ''I don't like being by my lonesome, Dal, 'specially not here, when I'm as banged up as I am.''

''You wanna stay at the Curtis' 'till you're feelin' better, then?'' I shrugged.

His face was suddenly hard.

''I don't want you goin' back to your folks, Johnny. I'm sick of them hurtin' you. I'm fuckin' _sick _of it.'' His teeth were clenched almost as tightly as his fists.

''But Dallas-''

''No, Johhny, there shouldn't be any fuckin' 'buts'! Do you not realize how fuckin' bad off you are now because of him? Johnny, he broke bones this time!''

''Maybe he didn't mean to-''

''Didn't mean to? Didn't mean to? Johnny he's always beatin' on you like your some goddamn punchin' bag! If you ask me, I'd say that's probably the result he was hoping for, man.''

The realization of Dally's statement hit me and suddenly I was shaking. I felt my heart drop. For some unthinkable reason, the comforting belief that my old man hadn't intended to take it so far had lingered in the darkest, most abandoned part of my mind. But just because it was stored in the darkest corner of my mind doesn't mean it wasn't there.

I had apparently been holding, subconsciously, onto the fact that maybe it was a mere accident. Maybe he hadn't intended to take it that far- maybe it was just how things ended up.

Dally had his arms wrapped around me but I continued to stare expectantly at the ceiling, as if it held the answers to every single thing that was currently at mind.

''I'm sorry I snapped at you like that, Johnnycake.'' He whispered, ''I just can't stand to sit here and do nothin' when I know that bastard-''

''Don't call him that Dallas.'' I said, and though my voice cracked as I said it, and my tears spilled soon afterwards, I knew I had gotten my point across.

_A/N:_

_Thanks for reading! I'm hoping this chapter is better than the last two, because I'm honestly not too satisfied with either of them. I'm sort of confused on how I should portray Johnny's old man in the chapters to come though. See, I've gotten reviews saying that the reader liked the way I portrayed as some heartless psychopath who got his jollies by beating on Johnny, but I've also gotten reviews saying that the reader didn't like the way I portrayed . Send me a review and tell me what you think, because I obviously can't do both!_

_And even if you don't have an answer for me, send me a review anyway! They brighten up my spirits! ;D_

_Stay gold and stay tuff,_

_A-T-S-G_


	6. Chapter 6

All I Crave is Mercy Chapter 6

My father started beating me when I was six years old.

My life wasn't too jolly before that either- he's always held a certain hostility towards me. I've never quite understood why.

When I was young, I'd fall under the belief that every beating I was given resulted from something I'd done wrong. I believed that every immature act I committed resulted in a beating. Even the smallest thing. So I would be good. I would be mature. I didn't want to let my old man down. And I didn't want to hurt anymore.

I grew up quickly. Forbidding myself to commit to anything my folks wouldn't approve of. I didn't get into fights, though people picked on me often, I wouldn't fight back too often. I tried my hardest in school, though that never really resulted in much.

When I was around nine, I realized it wasn't working. No matter how good I tried to be, I'd still get these 'punishments'. And I realized it wasn't because of what I was _doing _it was because of who I was. My father didn't approve of me. And as the years went by, I realized he never would. Every attempt I made at making my father approve of me resulted in- you guessed it- simply more beatings. I respected him. He hated me.

I just wish the day would come when my old man was proud of me. And until that day comes, I'll wait. I'll sit and wait. I'll take every beating. I'll do anything to make my folks proud. Anything.

I just wish that day would come sooner.

It's been seven years.

All I crave is mercy.

That and acceptance.

Why can't they just open their eyes and see that?

/

When I woke up the next morning, I was snuggled into the warm chest of Dallas Winston. My head was resting in the crook of his neck, in the exact position I had fallen asleep in the night before. The fact that I hadn't moved at all didn't surprise me. I had stopped moving in my sleep; even the smallest action caused the left side of my stomach to blaze in pain. I figured it was just because of the broken ribs.

''You awake?''

I looked up to find Dally's light blue eyes staring down at me.

''Mornin'.'' I mumbled, and suppressed a yawn.

He pushed my bangs out of my eyes. The fact that my bangs hung so low into my face had always bugged Dally. He kissed my forehead and moved to get out of bed.

I decided I should get out of bed as well- I had spent the past day lying in bed- so I moved to get up as well.

And cried in pain.

My ribs lit up in agony, and the left side of my abdomen radiated in pain. Again, the feeling that someone was stabbing me and twisting the knife hit me full-on. I clutched my side and leaned forward. When I did so, I swear I could hear my broken ribs scraping together. It was an altogether unpleasant sound- and the feeling was absolutely sickening. My eyes opened wide and I could feel the blood drain from my face. Dallas was at my side in an instant, his hand on my back.

''Johnnycake? Johnny? What is it? Are you okay?''

For what felt like the millionth time, I was crying in front of Dallas Winston. I bit my lip trying to stop myself- but it just wasn't working. My side hurt so badly; I felt like I was dying.

He wrapped his bare arms around me and pulled me close, rocking me back and forth just as he had the night I arrived. He smoothed my hair with one hand while the other rubbed soothing circles on my back.

''Shhh… Johnnycake… It's gonna be alright… Just calm down….'' He would mumble rambled yet soothing words into my ear.

''D-Dal… Make it stop… Please….'' I mumbled through gross sobs. I wished I could just stop crying. Dally probably thought I was the biggest wuss ever. I ashamed myself by crying so freely but fuck… I couldn't help it.

Dally reacted to my slurred fragments and jumped into immediate action. He grabbed me and yanked me out of the bed, carrying me bridal-style down the stairs which creaked with every step he took.

It seemed as if every little sound was amplified by the pain I was going through. Every creak of the stairs, even the tiniest whisper of a sound danced madly around my ears. All of those sounds slurred incoherently together until Dally's voice no longer reached me. I saw him speaking, saw his lips move as he pronounced each letter, but I couldn't hear him. It was drowned out in the intensity of the moment.

My vision was suddenly blurred, and I felt dizzy even though I was not standing. The dizziness resulted in the sensation of falling, so I grabbed onto Dally's arm and held onto it as tightly as I could manage, which really wasn't too tight, as weak as I was.

My vision caused everything in my immediate sight to morph together into a monster of colour and I couldn't make out anything. Not even Dally, and that scared me. I called out for him, but I don't recall if he answered because of the fuzzy noises still drowning my ears.

I was scared.

I was so scared.

I was panicking.

I felt a new wave of dizziness overcome me, and I passed out before we even reached the car.

_A/N:_

_So now things are getting intense, finally. Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed! Thank you _Johnnycake Sunrise _for being so awesome and sending all those reviews and just being amazing. You're all amazing, and I'm glad so many people like this! _

_PLEASE REVIEW. I COULD ALWAYS USE THE CRITICISM, EVEN IF I DON'T REALLY LIKE TO ADMIT THAT. AND I LOVE TO HEAR YOUR OPINIONS!_

_Stay gold and stay awesome._

_-A-T-S-G-_


	7. Chapter 7

All I Crave is Mercy Chapter 7

When I woke up, I was lying in a hospital bed. Dally was vacating the chair by my side with his head propped up on his arm. His eyes were closed. He looked exhausted.

''Dal…'' I whispered. My voice was cracked and broken. Though my voice was quiet, Dally's head shot up immediately and he brushed that beautiful pale-golden hair out of his face.

''Hey Johnnycake… You feelin' okay?''

''I've been better.'' I attempted a weak smile. I extended my arm to hold Dally's hand and noticed the thin tube protruding from it. That scared me. I've never been one to adore hospitals.

I had only been to a hospital once, when one of my usual drunken beatings turned from bad to worse and the old man broke my arm. That wasn't the story the hospital heard of course. As far as they know, I fell down a flight of stairs. I had never had an IV in my arm before. It was uncomfortable, and all I wanted to do was take it out, and free myself of the machines.

Dally must've noticed this- he opened his mouth to speak; but nothing came out. He just sat there, with his mouth hanging wide open, as I examined the tube dangling from my arm. The silence was terrible- it ate away at my ears until I gathered the courage to break it.

''How bad off am I, Dal?'' his face darkened. It was as if a dark, rainy cloud had suddenly washed over his elvish features. I looked over and noticed more tubes protruding from my other arm and wondered vaguely how I hadn't noticed them before.

''You have five. Five broken ribs. They think there's something wrong with your spleen. They did some kind of imagery thing on you when we first got here… Since you were unconscious.

A doctor entered the room almost directly after Dally had finished recalling my diagnosis.

''Ah, Mr. Cade. I see you're finally awake. And not a second too soon. After examining the results of your CT, we've come to the conclusion that your spleen is in fact ruptured. We'll need to put you into surgery as soon as possible.''

''W-What?'' That was all I could say. My spleen was ruptured? I didn't quite understand that statement but if it required surgery it's obviously rather dramatic…

''Five of your ribs are broken. That includes both of your 'floating' ribs at the bottom of your rib cage. The breakage of your left floating rib resulted in a puncture of your spleen. It's ruptured, and the internal bleeding, though it luckily isn't as dramatic as it could be, is what caused you to lose consciousness earlier. If we don't send you into an immediate splenectomy right now, you could die. And I know it's dramatic, and I don't mean to scare you, but it's the truth. We'll get the anesthesia for you in about ten minutes.''

And he left.

Dally reached out and gripped my hand. I was shaking. I looked over at him and could care less about the vulnerability ghosting my features.

I was terrified.

And I didn't care who knew.

Dally got up and migrated to the edge of my bed. I sat up even though it hurt. Dally wrapped me up in his arms and held me tight to his chest. He kissed the top of my head repeatedly and ran his hand through my hair. If I could've, I would've cried. But I couldn't. It was as if I were simply out of tears. I would've been pissed at myself if I had cried again, so it wasn't all bad. I just buried my face into Dally's shirt. My eyes were wide, and I could feel the blood drain from my face. Dally buried his nose into my hair- sort of breathing me in. Which I found sort of weird, but I didn't stop him.

''Dally what if they screw up? What if I really do die?''

''Mm. you won't.'' He mumbled. His voice was barely audible, with his mouth buried into my hair and everything.

''But-''

''You won't.'' And quietly, as if he thought I couldn't hear him, he added, ''You can't.''

The doctor returned five minutes later. For the first time, Dally actually kissed me on the lips. It was chaste, but it was… sweet.

''Dally please don't leave me. You have to come with me- you can't leave-''

''I'm afraid he won't be allowed in during your surgery.'' The doctor said.

''But-''

''I'm sorry, Mr. Cade, its hospital policy.''

I looked up at Dally with terror swimming in my eyes and he stared down at me grievingly.

''It's alright, Johnnycake. You'll be fine, I promise.''

''But Dally… you have to be there with me.''

He stared at me for a while before reaching up and undoing his necklace. He put it around my neck and kissed my forehead.

''There. Now I'll be there, even if you can't see me.'' He brushed the hair out of my eyes. ''You keep that hair out of your eyes, you hear?''

I smiled up at him and nodded. The doctor put a mask over my face, and immediately my vision got hazy. I watched Dally standing there in the doorway. For the first time, he looked… vulnerable. I watched him until we turned a corner and my vision went blank.

_A/N:_

_Thanks for reading! So I actually did my research for this part of the fic. A lot of research. Like so much research, most of it wasn't even needed. But yeah. Johnny's being taken in to have an open splenectomy, a surgery where you have your entire spleen removed. Earlier in the fic when I talked about 'floating ribs'. Floating ribs are the two ribs at the very bottom of your rib cage; the only ribs that don't connect to your breast bone, so they just sort of… well, float._

_PLEASE REVIEW! IT'LL MAKE ME HAPPY!_

_Oh, and I would've had this chapter up sooner but I had to go buy myself a rat. xD I named it Winston._

_Stay gold and stay awesome!_

_-A-T-S-G-_


	8. Chapter 8

All I Crave is Mercy Chapter 7

The anesthesia had all but a good effect on me.

I remained asleep, which was good at least. It was the deepest sleep I've ever surrendered under. I couldn't escape this form of sleep. It was mentally impossible for me to wander out of this sleep, no matter how hard I was shaken. No matter what I felt. No matter how hard my mind tortured me, I wouldn't wake up. And I assure you, it did.

Surrendering to this deep of a slumber also made me vulnerable for a thing that even makes Ponyboy Curtis shake.

Nightmares.

It's not like I hadn't had nightmares before; I had. I had a huge abundance of the tings hidden deep within my memory. My nightmares were usually just reflections of my life. Which simply makes them all the more terrible.

But this one… this one was different. Dally was included in this one.

I remember in the dream Dally and I walking up to my house. His arm was slung around my shoulder, and he had a smoke stuck between his lips. He took a long, weary drag on the thing and blows a perfect smoke ring. I watch the smoke ring drift up towards the clouds and vaguely wonder how it must feel to be as free as a smoke ring. A sudden, ominous feeling was dropped onto my shoulders as I turned and realized Dally was gone.

I panicked and looked frantically around for him, tough I simply couldn't find him. The ominous feeling grows and grows until it's like a monster eating away at my psyche. I'm losing my mind; I _have_ to find Dally. I can't just allow him to slip through my nimble little fingers.

And suddenly, I heard a scream.

It's a tortured scream. It dragged on for only a few seconds, though it echoes in my ears for much longer than that. It sounds familiar- though I just cannot bring myself to identify the owner of such a screech. And then it hits me.

Dally.

I darted towards my house, where the scream still echoes. It sounded again and I ran faster, though ever step just got me farther away from my immediate destination. It suddenly occurred to me that there is simply no way for me to reach Dally in time.

It seemed like I only began to move when the retched screaming came to an end. I knew it'd be too late. But I persisted, for the sake of my Dallas. I ran in the open doorway and into the house, ready to fight the whole world if I had to if it meant getting Dally. I still didn't see Dally anywhere. I wandered into my room, and was so sickeningly appalled by what my eyes found that I felt my knees buckle, and a scream escaped my lips this time around.

Dally lay contorted and sprawled across my bedroom floor. Under him, a pool of crimson grew and grew, eating away at everything it came in contact with. His torso was vacated by a scattered arrangement of bleeding wounds, and the left side of his head resembled the canvas of a three-year-old who had come in contact with a can of red paint.

''J-Johnny-'' The thing gurgled as blood bubbled grotesquely from its crying mouth. I titled this creature a thing because there was no way in the world this contorted body was Dallas…. Right?

I felt my knees scrape against the ground as I dragged myself like a toddler across the floor to the heap of flesh. I got to him and I grabbed his head , careful to avoid the wound on the left side of his face. His crystal blue eyes stared up at me, no light left in them. They no longer shimmered; they were simply dull. Those beautiful eyes were dull. His golden hair was stained red, and if anyone were to see him they'd have never believed he was born a blonde.

Something shimmering caught my eye, and the one thing I was positive Dallas Winston was incapable of producing, fell to the ground. A tear. Dallas Winston was crying.

That broke me.

A quivering sob racked my body, and I double over. My own tears fell and mixed with the blood still draining from Dally. They turned a soft pink colour and slid to the ground, defeated.

I rested Dally's head on my lap and ran my hand down his right cheek, so as not to do him any more pain. He'd stare up at me with a blank expression, his eyes still dull and fading still.

''D-Dal…'' I mumbled, though due to my quivering lip. ''Dal- y-you can't d-d-die… you c-can't…'' I whispered as my voice cracked. ''I c-can't go o-on without y-you…'' I sniffled.

''D-Don't c-cry…'' he mumbled, blood spilling from his lips. It dribbled down his chin carelessly.

I stared down at him incredulously, almost unable to believe he could get that much out. I wiped the blood off of his chin and wiped it on my pants.

''I-I'm gonna h-help you, D-Dal. I'm g-gonna fix y-you… it's g-gonna be a-alright.''

''J-Johnnyc-cake… you,'' he coughed up more blood ''c-can't f-fix me… I-it's too l-late.'' Another tear fell. And another. Every tear that dropped broke me more.

''Don't say that!'' I screamed. I smoothed down his hair and bent over further so our foreheads were together.

''I l-love you… you c-can't just l-leave m-me…'' I mumbled foolishly. I knew it was futile. I knew he was already gone. But I just couldn't accept it. I could never accept that. Dally was my everything.

''J-Johnny, b-baby… I l-love y-you. I l-love you s-so much… y-you have to g-go on…. Okay? F-for m-me?'' And he stared up at me with those big blue eyes, the life melting out of them quicker than ever before until- they were empty. And his chest refused to rise. And one eccentric golden tear slid down his cheek.

And Dallas Winston died.

_A/N:_

_Thanks for reading! This chapter was meant to make you cry, so if you did, review and tell me! Your tears will make my day! And you can take that whatever way you please! SO PLEASE. REVIEW. _

_Stay gold and stay tuff,_

_-A-T-S-G-_


	9. Chapter 9

All I Crave is Mercy Chapter 9

When I finally opened my eyes again, Two-Bit Mathews was leaned over with his face stuck only centimeters from my own.

I gasped and pushed my head down further into the pillow as if I were attempting to get away from him before even realizing what it was I was doing.

''Dammit, Two-Bit you ass. Ya scared the shit out of him!'' Dally's voice met my ears. Never in my entire life had I been so happy to hear that voice.

I noticed all the wires and tubes sticking out of my arms sooner than I had the day before. I peered curiously at all of them, wondering why I would need so many of them. There definitely was an abundance of the things.

''Johnnycake?'' I heard Dally mumble. I turned my head and looked at him, glad to see his blond hair still golden and not canvassed scarlet. His eyes lit up as he looked at me, which was a personal luxury after experiencing that nightmare.

I looked around, noticing the entire gang was settled around my bed. I gave them a weary smile and they all seemed to sigh in relief.

I was grateful to have the whole gang there, having them to care enough to drop everything and come to the hospital to see me.

But I just really wanted to talk to Dally. Privately.

Amazingly, they all seemed to sense that. I guess the way I looked over at Dally gave it away. Darry ushered them all out of the room, and closed the door behind him.

Dally strode over to the bed and sat down. I looked up at him with wide, childish eyes.

''What's wrong?'' he asked.

''During my surgery…''

''Did something bad happen? What's wrong? If those bastards-''

''Dally. Nothing happened.'' He seemed to cool down a bit. ''I… never mind…'' I sighed. I wanted to tell Dally about my nightmare, I really did, but what if he didn't understand? What if he thought I was childish for falling victim to such a foolish figment of imagination? Nightmares are not real. They're a simple figment of the imagination. Something your mind cooks up over time. Nothing real about them whatsoever. But they _feel_ real. And that's enough for something to count as real, right? If it feels real and looks real, it's real… right? No. No, I need to stop stressing over this. Nightmares are _not real._

But what if they are?

What if nightmares are the reality of a distant dimension? The reality of a place you only see while you're sleeping?

What if we really _should _be afraid?

''Johnny?''

Dally's voice yanked me out of the shadows of my mind. I looked over at him, and he had a strange form of concern I his eyes.

''Johnny I love you.'' He said out of the blue after a few seconds of silence. I looked up at him, surprised.

''I love you too, Dal.'' I said. He shook his head.

''No, man, I _really_ love you. More than anything.''

''I love you too Dal.'' I answered without hesitation.

''Then you know that means you can tell me anything, right? You can tell me anything.'' I looked up at him. He wasn't joking. He wasn't smiling; he wore a serious, hard expression.

''Now what happened during surgery?'' he inquired, glancing at me with his oceanic eyes gleaming in curiosity.

''I… I had a…''

Dally waved his hand and raised an eyebrow, ushering me to go on.

''I had a nightmare.'' I confessed. I was embarrassed. I expected Dally to burst out laughing; but he didn't. his eyebrows kind of furrowed and he stared at me with the same anxiety I was surely had radiating from my features. He rested his hand on my leg.

''What happened?''

There. The question I had been dreading. The question I was positive would be asked, the question which was sure to leave his lips. Though the same question I had been mentally backing away from.

I breathed in slightly too quickly and my breathe hitched, resulting in what sounded like some kind of awkward gasp. I allowed my head to droop down. I didn't want to tell him. I knew I'd start to bawl. Again.

''Johnny?''

''You were in it, Dal. You were in it. You left me, I didn't know where you were. You were just gone. And I was so scared, because I didn't know where you were. And then, when I went into my house, you were in there.'' My breathe hitched, ''And you were dying… but I don't know what happened… and I had to save you… and I- I tried! I tried but you wouldn't let me! You said it was too late anyway, and you had all these cuts all over you and you were bleeding,'' I started talking faster, my words just slurred together, ''And I knew you were going to die, but I didn't want you to! I couldn't just let you _die! _I couldn't let you!'' I realized I was shouting, and quickly switched to a dead whisper.

''But you did. You died.'' Tears were spilling from my eyes, just as I had expected them to. I was so caught up in the moment, I hadn't noticed when Dally wrapped his arms around me. I hadn't noticed the entire gang reenter after my fit of yelling. They all just stood there, awestruck. It's not too often I get loud like that. They just watched.

''Get the fuck out of here, you guys, just get the fuck out.'' Dally said, his words stumbling over each other as they escaped his mouth. But he spoke calmly. It wasn't a shout, but I was still a deadly warning. Dally always has that ''silence before the storm'' kind of moment before he really goes off. I don't know what had bothered him.

After the gang had all left again, dally started rocking me back and forth. It calmed me way down, but I had to tell him to stop because it was making my already uncomfortable IV's even worse.

His arms covered me like a blanket and he rested his chin on the top of my head. He planted kisses in my hair as we sat.

Finally he said, ''I'm not gonna leave you, okay? I' m not leavin'.''

''You were dead-'' I whispered, my voice broken and raw from crying.

''But I'm here now. I'm not leavin' you, Johnnycake. Ever.''

_A/N:_

_Thanks for reading! Sorry about making Dally act way out of character and all… Review and tell me what you think! You can rant to me about stuff, or compliment me on stuff, or tell me your favourite Outsiders character, I don't care! just send me a review, please!_

_Stay gold and stay tuff,_

_-A-T-S-G-_


	10. Chapter 10

All I Crave is Mercy Chapter 10

Two weeks. The approximate amount of time I was to stay in the hospital. Two tiny weeks and I was going home, and I'd be fine. That's what the doctor claimed. My body, just like every other time, spoiled all attempt at planning and destroyed all medical claims pursued only by the doctor.

Just my luck.

While spending my time in the hospital, I learned just what had happened, and what was happening, and what might happen to me.

When my dad dropped that kick on my left side that night, which now seems centuries ago, he broke a little something called my ''floating rib.'' It was the left one. Both right and left floating ribs are located at the bottom of the rib cage, neither of which connects to the breastbone, unlike the other twenty-two ribs. This, apparently, causes them to appear as if they're… well, floating.

Though they aren't connected whatsoever to the breastbone, the floating ribs are still strong. But if they break, and are at an awkward angle, they can mean bad news for not only your spleen, but your liver and both kidneys. When my left floating rib was hit by my old man, it was severely cracked, and the impact on the wall, thanks to Buck Merrill, broke it completely. It punctured my spleen, which then ruptured. The internal bleeding I experienced was what caused my faint as well as the dizziness. The pain belonged mainly to the amount of broken ribs. Well. Most of it anyway.

Since it was already basically useless, my spleen was then removed in a procedure called an open splenectomy. The aftermath of which hurts like fuck, which is why I was plugged up to so many machines. The IV's were pumping, not only nutrients, but lots of strong pain medicine.

Here's the tricky part.

The spleen is a somewhat crucial factor in the human immune system. It produces white blood cells, and filters all the old and dead red blood cells from the immediate blood stream. The spleen is one of the body's most reliable sources of infection fighting. The human body's somewhat dependent of it, though it can get along without it.

But not easily.

Over fifty percent of splenectomy patients die of sicknesses which spread because of their lack of a spleen. These illnesses are called OPSI, or overwhelming post-splenectomy infections. Usually taking the form of pneumonia, an OPSI, even a small one, could result in death for patients including children (particularly under the age of ten), the elderly, and people who are malnourished.

_I_ am quite malnourished.

Which is bad news for me.

Which resulted in even more IV's and isolation.

Not _complete_ isolation; we were able to coax the doctors into allowing Dally to come in. he had to take immense caution, of course, considering the likeliness of him getting me sick. But he could visit. However, he could only visit for three hours every day. That meant twenty-one hours every day I had to spend alone; apart from the nurses and doctors of course, but they don't count. A lot can happen in twenty-one hours, I assure you.

/

Six days into my two weeks, I really wasn't feeling well. I didn't say anything though; Me sick resulted in no visitation from Dally. So I kept my mouth good and shut.

Dally arrived at the hospital at the exact same time every day. Never was he late, nor was he early. Never.

He arrived at one, and if he arrived any later, hell, if he arrived a minute late, he'd most likely have the world's most liable excuse; I wouldn't know for sure. He never arrived late. But even if he fed an incredibly farcical excuse, I'd believe him. I'd forgive him.

So when Ponyboy Curtis came loping into my room, I was caught off guard. He paused in the doorway, staring at me, and I reflected him, not knowing what to say. The silence was awkward.

I flashed him a grin- not only to rid us of the abominate silence which drowned our ears, but to greet him. He grinned back. Ponyboy has such a striking smile. He's gonna look just like Sodapop someday, I just know it. He walked over almost sheepishly to the chair at my side and handed me a small rectangular object wrapped rather untidily in newspaper.

''I gotcha somethin'. To help with bein' bored n' all.'' He said, rubbing the back of his neck.

I ripped off the newspaper to uncover a small, yellowing copy of _Gone with the Wind. _Pony and I had gone to see that movie a little while back. I had enjoyed it.

I beamed at him and looked back down at the book. I wasn't too strong a reader; but I was willing to at least try to read this book. Even if it took forever.

''Hey, thanks Pone.'' I said, settling the book onto my lap. He smiled, rather pleased with himself for getting me something I'd enjoy. He looked almost proud of himself.

''No problem, Johnny. So how are ya holdin' up?'' He asked.

''I'm fine,'' I ignored the jump my stomach gave, ''How's the gang?''

''They're good. Told me to let ya know they say 'hi'.'' He smiled slightly, but looked at the ground.

It was silent again after that. There's silence when Dal comes to visit too, of course, but I don't know. This silence just seemed more… stiff. It was more lacerating. Harder to handle.

''Ya know… I saw how miserable ya looked when we came to see ya the other day… and… And I just wanted to tell you that everythin' happens for a reason. I mean, ya just have to wait. I'm sure all this'll pay off in the end.''

''I don't see what good could come from this.''

Even I surprised myself by my pessimistic statement. I looked down at the book. My stomach gave another good lurch. I grabbed at it, and my shoulders stiffened. It wasn't too noticeable, but Pony saw, and jumped up, grabbing my shoulder.

''You okay?'' He asked immediately. I breathed out slowly, and nodded.

''Fine.'' I mumbled. He looked at me suspiciously, obviously not believing me, but nodded and sat back down anyway.

''So how's Dal? How come he isn't here too?'' I asked after a while.

''Dally's not feelin' too well. Said he couldn't go. But he didn't want you bein' here alone, so I volunteered to come.'' He finished.

''Is he alright?'' I asked, concerned.

''Naw, he's fine. Just a case of the flu. It's goin' around now.'' He looked at the ground again.

My stomach gave another awful lurch, and I actually ended up gagging. Pony immediately shot up and grabbed the tiny trash can beside the bed, and shoved it in front of me. I dry heaved, but nothing ever made an appearance. Luckily.

He rubbed my back when I was finished attempting to vomit, and looked down at me, a worried expression plastered to his face.

''Should I get the doctor?''

''Naw… I'm fine, Pone, really.'' I lied. I lied so terribly. He saw through it immediately. I know he did. He stood there silently for a minute, pondering something, then looked up at me.

''Ya don't mind if I go have a smoke, do ya, Johnnycake?'' he asked.

''Naw, man, I don't care.''

''Cool. I'll be back in a minute.''

Well at least he told the truth about something. Ponyboy came back seconds later.

With the doctor in tow.

_A/N: _

_Thanks so much for reading! Three chapters written and posted today, man. I'm really on top of things. Sorry if the beginning was boring, I just wanted everybody to be aware of the state our little Johnnycake is in. I realize Johnny wouldn't know most of this stuff, but I'd say he was probably at least interested in what was going on with him, and in the book, Ponyboy says Johnny really gets into stuff once he's interested, so I don't know. Give me your thoughts on the subject, if you will! And I hope you all are proud of me for FINALLY having another character of the gang taking part in this fic. I am deeply in love with Ponyboy Curtis, so there was no way I would ever leave him out of this anyway, but still. It sure took me long enough. I'd also like to say thank you to all of the people who took the time to send me a review! It sure does mean a whole lot! _

_PLEASE REVIEW._

_Stay gold and stay tuff,_

_-A-T-S-G-_


	11. Chapter 11

All I Crave is Mercy Chapter 11

Influenza.

I had influenza.

Just a tiny case of the flu, and they practically put me on lock down. I wasn't allowed to have any visitors. Which meant no Dally. No Ponyboy. Just nurses and the occasional doctor.

I spent my time reading that copy of _Gone with the Wind_ Pone had brought in for me. It was tricky, I'll admit, but at least it passed the time.

The hours peeled away at an unbearable rate- each one taking decades longer than the last. For a while I told myself the clock in my room was simply broken, that the breakage influenced the clock to tick more slowly than usual. I didn't believe myself.

My flu was amplified greatly by my lack of immune system. Every fiber in my body seemed to ache. And my eyes watered with such immense passion, I constantly looked as if I were crying.

The coughing was the worst.

The frequent coughing fits I'd stumble across absolutely _killed _my ribs. They sent them blazing, and even if it was only for a few minutes, it still hurt. My stomach would give violent jumps at random, which would send me doubled over the tiny trash can at my side.

All I wanted, of course, was my Dally.

I wanted Dally to come and make me feel better. Just seeing him would make me feel better. I'd heal immediately at the sight of his face. Dally's face is rather eccentric now that I ponder it. That irregularly sharp face, ears which are just slightly too pointy. Blond hair that vines freely around the edges of his eccentrically elvish features. Eyes as translucent as drops of the sky. He is truly beautiful.

But it was him who got me sick. So I couldn't see him. It was forbidden. And _it_ was what was killing me now. Being unable to see Dallas made me unable to get better. They say laughter's the best medicine; it's not. It's love.

/

A few days later, and I was slightly stronger. Immune-wise, of course.

I was feeling better and was finally allowed to have visitors. The doctors, being the un-fun people they are, limited me to only one visitation per day. He said I needed to take it easy. What the hell did he think I had been doing the past week?

Well of course, my first visit was from Dally. He arrived at one, just like always, and sat in the chair next to my bed. He looked like he had something on his mind; something that had been bothering him for days. He had a problem. But I didn't know what it was. He had dark bags under his pulchritudinous eyes like he had sat up all night pondering the deepest of his emotional mind.

''Hey Johnnycake. How ya holdin' up? Pony told me you were sick, man, I'm sorry about that.'' He looked regretful of something.

''Why are you sorry, Dal?''

''Well 'cause, Johnnycake. I was sick too. I had to have been the one who gave it to ya.''

I looked at him seriously for a second, then smiled gently.

''Dal, it's alright. I'm fine now, right?''

''No, Johnny, you aren't!'' I was surprised by his outburst, ''If I had given you something worse than the flu I could have killed you! Look, I don't understand all of this doctor shit, but I know why you're in isolation. I know if you get too sick you're gonna die. I know the odds ain't exactly in your favour, Johnny. You can't just pretend like I don't.''

''But Dal, I-''

''Johnny if I gave you the disease that killed you I wouldn't be able to live with myself! Living without you would be hard enough; living without you because _I_ caused your death would be fucking terrible!'' he sighed loudly and leaned over, putting his head in his hands.

''Dal. I'm fine. Honest.'' He looked up at me with a look of pure anxiety, and just shook his head.

''I've missed you so goddamn much.'' He said simply, looking pitiful. I smiled.

''I've missed you too.'' He stood up and hugged me. He rubbed his hand through my hair while he embraced me, and when he had finally finished, he kissed me. On the lips, like before I went into surgery. I hope he started doing that more often. It gives you a funny feeling to be kissed by the person you love most. Like a mixture between having butterflies in your stomach and having the most enticing adrenaline rush possible. And I love it.

''I died every day I was away from you.'' He whispered, as he pushed our foreheads together blandly. I looked up at him.

''I hope I ain't never have to be away from you for that long ever again.'' I admitted, ''It was torture, Dal. Pure. Torture.'' He laughed at this and sat back down in his chair. He stayed for much longer than three hours that day. And no doctor got in our way about it.

_A/N:_

_Thanks for reading! Sorry for such a short chapter; I just couldn't think of what should happen after that. At least the chapter ended on a happy note for once! And look, Johnny didn't cry once in this chapter! I'm already up to forty reviews from you awesome people! That's the most I've ever gotten on a fic before, so thank you, thank you, thank you!_

_PLEASE REVIEW._

_Stay gold and stay tuff,_

_-A-T-S-G-_


	12. Chapter 12

All I Crave is Mercy Chapter 12

''Well the little piece of shit's mine, ain't he? So why the hell wouldn't I be able to fuckin' see the bastard?''

A loud, bellowing voice was what woke me up. I had been sleeping tranquilly, dreaming of nothing but Dallas, and that annoying voice woke me up. It was a familiar voice. I wondered vaguely who it belonged to but couldn't think straight due to my fogged up groggy mind.

There were pounding footsteps coming from behind the door which shielded me from the outside world. Or the hospital hallway, anyway. I looked over at Dally who had vacated the chair beside my bed. He was asleep. The pounding did anything but subside, and pretty soon the voice was heard radiating from behind the door again.

''Goddammit, he's my fuckin' kid I think I ought to be able to fuckin' talk to him for one goddamn minute!''

Oh god. I know that voice.

Just as the owner of the shouts dawned on me, my dad came barging into the room with at least three doctors in tow, begging and threatening him to get out of the hospital. Dally's head nodded upward, and his eyes peeled open slowly. At the sight of my old man, his face contorted into a look of immediate loathing, and his mouth twisted into an aggravated snarl. His eyes lit up, and were blazing with such an animosity for the man who claimed to be my father, I was actually more fearful of what Dally was intensions were rather than the old man's.

''Get out of here.'' He growled provocatively.

My dad hesitated slightly in the doorway, eyeing Dally. He looked at him with some sort of peculiar interest, as Dally's hatred radiated from his expression. The aura of the room was demonic. My father lost interest quickly in Dally, and he looked away from the blazing eyes of the boy who only wanted to kill him. He looked me square in the eyes.

'' I want you to know you better not be comin' back to the fuckin' house 'til you're more than just a waste o' space! I'm sick of you disrespectin' me, you little good for nothing shit. And don't expect us to pay this fuckin' hospital bill for your ass either, 'cause we sure as hell ain't goin' to!'' He strode quickly over to the side of my bed, and seized the collar of the retched gown the hospital had informed me to wear. He pulled me upward until my face was frozen in front of his own.

''And if you fuckin-''

Instantaneously, Dally was up out of the chair, rapidly storming towards my dad. He grabbed him by his own collar, pulling him up in the exact same position he had had me. He pulled back his fist, but before it had the chance to come flying back down onto the face of my old man, the doctors had Dally by the arms, and were pulling him back as quickly as they could. They dragged the old man away as well, and out of the room. He threw verbal daggers in the direction of Dallas, though none were able to penetrate through the pure hate still propagating from him.

''If you _ever _lay one mother fucking hand on him again, I will personally kill your fucking ass!'' Dally bellowed just as the door closed, and my father disappeared behind it, still struggling against the power of the three doctors. I was surprised the doctors did nothing about the way Dally had reacted, and about what he was shrieking through their hospital.

My old man had come to hospital just to tell me he doesn't want to see me at home ever again. If he took the time out of his day to tell me I was a waste of space, to tell me I shouldn't be coming home, he really meant it. He usually doesn't give a shit about me. But he personally sent me this message, which told me he really meant to get his point across this time. I felt my heart crumble. I knew he hated me; I knew my mom hated me. But I just… I didn't ever have any reason to believe it. I could always love them. I _would_ always love them. They're my parents. I wish they could see how much I looked up to them. Before the old man started beating the shit out of me, of course. I looked up to them so much. My parents were my everything. I loved them. But my father threw that first punch, and I questioned myself and my family. I've never really felt the same about them. Which is understandable.

I pulled my knees up to my chest as I started to shake. I enveloped my knees in my arms, and sat with my head on my knees even if it did cause my ribs to burn. I tried to swallow my tears, but the lump developing my throat prevented me from doing so. And so they fell.

Dally sat down on the bed, all hints of animosity and repugnance was forgotten. He had erased it all from his face, and replaced it with a look of comfort and sympathy. He sat on the edge of my bed, and rubbed my back in soothing circles.

''Johnny?'' he asked in a voice coated in empathy for me. I didn't look at him. I just continued staring directly ahead, my eyes locked on a certain spot on the wall which had for no reason grabbed my attention.

''Johnnycake. You okay, babe?'' Dally soothed. He pulled me close with the hand that had previously been rubbing those comforting circles on my back, and I leaned onto his shoulder. I gripped onto his sleeve as if I were positive I was about to float away; float away like a balloon lost in the sky of open emotion, not knowing where it was going, but positive it didn't want to find out though it would never be able to stop itself.

I buried my face in his sleeve and cried. Never had my father hurt me so badly.

_But he didn't even do anything,_ you may be thinking. Ah, but he did. Physically, he did nothing. But he had told me he didn't want me. He told me I was simply a waste of space. And that hurt. It hurt so badly. It caused more pain than any injury could ever concoct, knowing that your parents don't accept you. Knowing you could be easily replaced. Knowing that no matter how hard you worked at it, no one was going to appreciate you. No one was going to feel pride for you.

Knowing you'd always be on the outside looking in. Alone forever until someone came along who felt sympathy for you. And helped you get off your feet. And showed you the world, and what it felt like to be loved and admired and accepted.

And of course, I already had someone like this.

So maybe I wasn't as bad off as I was always telling myself I was.

_A/N:_

_Thanks for reading! I hope you liked this chapter, I thought it was sort of rushed and scrambled. But I hoped you liked it! PLEASE REVIEW. I'M TRYING TO GET TO AT LEAST FIFTY, I'M ON FORTY-FOUR. WE CAN DO IT. _


	13. Author's Note

_A/N:_

_Hello. This is your very proud author here to inquire something of what I considered dire importance. I was thinking of including a brief sex scene in chapter thirteen of this fic, and I was wondering if any of my wonderful, amazing readers would disagree with this idea. If no-one agrees with me, and my idea is overpowered by the minds of my beautiful readers, I will still include a mild make-out scence, though it may not be as intense. _

_So please review and tell me what you want me to do, because I don't want to go and write something none of my readers will appreciate. PLEASE REVIEW AND TELL ME, BECAUSE I SHAN'T BE MOVING ON UNTIL I HAVE AT LEAST FIVE REVIEWS ON THIS. I DON'T WANT TO LET ANYONE DOWN BY INCLUDING THING WHICH THEY WOULD NOT FIND TOO APPROPRIATE. _

_Thank you,_

_Stay gold and stay tuff,_

_Your very proud author,_

_-Attempting-To-Stay-Gold-_


	14. Chapter 13

All I Crave is Mercy Chapter 13

I was released from the hospital in the middle of the week to follow.

I was unable to return to my home, and I simply felt too down-beat to go stay at the Curtis'. Dally knew I didn't like Buck Merrill's. I couldn't think of any other possible spot for us to retreat to. The doctors expected me to continue keeping it easy. Though I had eventually overcome the influenza, I was still vulnerable to disease. If my temperature ever reached anything above 100 degrees, I was to report to the hospital immediately. I was to stay in a quiet place and rest for a while, which was exactly what I had been doing for the past three weeks. But Dally agreed to keep a good eye on me, and make sure I was following all the doctor's orders and medical expectations. He ushered me into his Thunderbird directly after I was dispatched from the hospital, obvious anticipation radiated from him. He was quite glad to see me up and walking around again.

So now here I am, in the passenger seat of Dallas Winston's T-bird, on the road to god knows where. Honestly I didn't care where he was taking me; as long as he remained there with me.

''So Dal…'' I finally spoke up, unable to keep the question of my whereabouts controllable.

''Hm?'' He mumbled, evoked from his thoughts.

''Where ya taken me?'' I asked rather bluntly.

''My house.'' He answered.

His house? Dally doesn't own a house… right? Why else would be spend all those countless nights at Buck Merrill's god awful place? Or the Curtis'?

''Your house?'' I inquired, slightly shocked by his answer.

''Yeah, man. My house. We're goin' to my house. Well, apartment. But there's not really a difference, right?'' He said, sounding as if he were talking to himself.

''Well no, I guess not.'' I answered, peering at him. He didn't notice, and so I let my attention migrate out the window.

/

We arrived about ten minutes later at the apartments Dally apparently calls home. It was a beat down, believably abandoned set of buildings, the appearance of which granted one with the feeling of loneliness. It was built mainly of bricks, each one whole though aged, with the occasional chipped corner. Several of the bricks were crumbling; the aged remains of which laid settled in piles beside the wall. I wondered vaguely how this building was still standing. It appeared as if even the most docile of wind would be capable of blowing the thing over.

We sat in the car for a minute, silent. I do hate silence. Especially the very _loud_ silences. They seem to break themselves, though they don't quite make themselves heard unless you really listen. Though not very many people really take the time to listen. So you're left standing on your toes, awaiting the words which never reach the surface. And you're forced to break the silence on your own, eventually, but the words that are used to break the silence always seem too loud, and therefore unaccepted by the silence's bluntly inadaptable ears. But this time, it was not I who was left to break the silence.

''So you… you wanna go in, or should we just move on to the next lean-to?'' Dally questioned.

''Let's go on in.'' I said. I had the idea that Dally had seen the discouraged gleam in my eye as I peered at the worn down building, and I didn't want to hurt his feelings or anything.

We climbed out of the car and I shadowed Dally through the door, and up the stairs to yet another door, itching for someone to open it. Dally barged on in, no key leaving his pocket, meaning the door was intentionally left unlocked. The inside of the apartment was possibly worse than the outside.

The yellowing wallpaper was in the act of peeling and flaking from the walls, and apparently had been doing this for supposable years. The floor was gray, but I had a feeling it never started out that colour. There were unnerving cracks decorating the ceiling; and the lights were all simple, luminous bulbs protruding from said ceiling. In the left corner of the apartment was an old mattress, clothed in invisible sheets, thus sitting naked, pushed against the wall. Upon it sat two pillows, each clad in matching white cases, and a shaggy, gray blue blanket was lying on the makeshift bed, looking as if someone had angrily thrown it there. In the opposite corner of the wannabe home was a raggedy kitchen, presumably unused.

Dally looked over at me with a self-conscious gleam in his electric blue eyes. He was apparently growing anxious of my reaction. I looked up at him, a crooked and weary smile hovering over my face.

''Well, it's still better than Buck Merrill's.'' I said, and he read my face with an amused, and slightly relieved, look of expression. He laughed briefly, and headed over to the mattress, which looked much cleaner close up, and he sat down, me shadowing behind.

I took a seat beside him, leaned against the wall at a rather comfortable position. We sat there in silence again. It was unnerving. I had the sudden assumption that a certain pair of warm blue eyes was burning through my skull, and so I looked over, just to be bombarded by the feeling of warm, though cracked, lips being pushed against mine in a forceful, lustful, though loving kiss. I was surprised for a moment, the butterflies in my stomach suddenly booming, and all of my emotions stampeding one another.

But eventually, once all was calmed, I kissed back, just as lustfully as the pair of lips before had.

I fell sideways, landing on my back, but not leaving the lips of Dallas Winston for a second. Our lips fought, or so it seemed, and Dally's, being most dominant, were so obviously winning. I moaned, but he only kissed harder, and I was forced to desist from the game, and give in to the pair of hot lips. His hips bucked in a seemingly uncontrollable fashion as he probed the inside of my mouth with his tongue, which was undoubtedly working magic on me.

At that moment, I realized just how much I love Dallas Winston.

I don't know how I never noticed such an overwhelming feeling before. It felt like my heart was rising right up and out of my throat every time I looked at him. Every time he looked at _me._ I just don't see how someone like _me _could ever even catch someone like Dally. He's so handsome and tuff; but look at me. I'm nowhere near tuff. And I lack every possible form of courage. I'm just some weak little puppy, that no-one seems to understand. I'm a baby. I cry too often. I host too many scars. Too many bad memories. I'm nowhere near good enough for him.

But when I'm with Dally, I forget all of this. It all just flies out of my mind. I forget about it until he leaves, until I'm left alone to ponder myself. Until I'm simply left alone. And I have nothing else to do, and no-one else to talk to. That's when it all really comes out. That's when I realize how ugly I really am. How unworthy I really am.

But I'm with him now, I'm not alone. Therefore I can just focus on him, and him alone, and how sweet his illusive lips feel pressed up close to mine, how every buck of his hips echoes through my body, how every moan he attempts to stifle swarms my mind. How beautiful he is and how beautiful I feel when I'm with him. When I'm next to him. When I'm pressed up against to him like I am right now.

Dally ran his hand through my hair roughly, his lips still forcing themselves against my own. His hips bucks again, and I felt my heart jump in mere delight of the moment. We finally pulled apart, my lungs felt like they were dying, and while he took shallow breaths, he pushed out foreheads together, and he kissed my cheek, before diving back in again.

And I pinched myself subconsciously, because there was positively no way I could be feeling this happy.

I'd never felt this happy. This loved. It was the best feeling I had and ever will experience.

The feeling I had when I was with him.

_A/N:_

_Thanks for reading. I hope you all liked this. There were some reviews saying they didn't really like sex scenes, so I didn't get as intense as I was planning. But that's okay, I didn't want to lose any readers just because of a sex scene. But thanks for reading. _

_PLEASE REVIEW. I'D LIKE TO GET TO SIXTY THIS TIME. THAT'S JUST SIX MORE REVIEWS. WE CAN DO IT._

_Stay gold and stay tuff,_

_-A-T-S-G-_


	15. Chapter 14

All I Crave is Mercy Chapter 14

I woke up the next morning in that old mattress, covered up snuggly in the raggedy old blue blanket, which I now realized was striped. I rolled over, expecting to find Dally, expecting to look directly into his blue eyes and see him smiling at me, and greet him good morning as soon as he greeted me.

But he wasn't there.

I sat up and looked feverishly around, not knowing where Dally could possibly be, or why he would go and leave me again. All of these questions burst through my mind, swimming and dunking each other, each one drowned out by the desperate call of the one proceeding it. I opened my mouth to call out, when an amused voice met my ears.

''Johnnycake, man, calm down. I'm right here.'' Dally came walking over from the kitchen, a glass in his hand. He sat down, smiling at me, obviously attempting to stifle a chuckle. Which is understandable; I must have looked pretty crazed, looking about as desperately as I had been. But he should've known better than to leave me like that. We had covered this.

I went to laugh, but it hurt. My ribs weren't quite healed. My breathing was getting to be pretty shallow as well. Each breath had committed its own toll to my body, but it hadn't been this bad before. I coughed to get rid of the uncomfortable feeling in the pit of my throat, and it came out broken and rugged sounding. Dally looked at me, his eyebrows furrowed and all evidence of a smile wiped from his features.

''You okay?"

''Fine.'' I said. I didn't want Dally worrying about me. It probably wasn't anything anyway.

''So you wanna go over to the Curtis' today?'' Dally asked, looking curiously over at me.

I nodded, and smiled. It had been a long while since I had seen the whole gang. It was about time I got to go out and see the world again.

''You sure you're feelin' up to it?'' Dally asked quietly, raising an eyebrow.

''Y-yeah,'' I cleared my throat, ''Yeah.'' Dally looked at me suspiciously but shrugged it off. I could tell he didn't believe me; I've never been too good at lying.

/

My throat felt like it was being sliced in half by a handful of razors every time I took a breath.

I realized this new symptom as soon as Dally and got to the Curtis'. I swallowed, attempting to rid myself of this awful pain, but that only made it worse. I felt like shit. But did I tell Dally? No.

My stomach would give unnerving and sudden jumps every few minutes, and even while it wasn't in the act of betraying me, it was aching dully; Completely mimicking my chest. It felt like I was drowning on myself; my lungs strained themselves trying to get enough air inside them. I didn't know what was wrong, but I simply didn't want to tell Dally. He'd think I was acting like a wuss. I'm sick of acting so childish around him. Crying and whining over the tiniest things; it's embarrassing.

Dally and I got out of the car, him swiftly and tuff, me aching and crawling. I thought for sure I was going to throw up all over the street, but I held it in, and I shadowed Dally all the way to the house. Before going on in though, he turned and put his hand on my shoulder.

''Are you sure you're feelin' alright?'' he asked.

I nodded, afraid to speak. If I opened my mouth, no words would reach the surface anyway; my throat was hurting too badly. My stomach jumped again, and I winced.

''Johnny, I'm serious. If you aren't feelin' good I'll take you to the hospital. I told the damn doctors I was gonna watch ya, man. They looked pretty serious about it. I'm not gonna let you get sick and not tell me.'' he looked at me with a serious glare, though there was a sensitive gleam in his eyes. He stared at me. I wondered if I should tell him. Tell him that I feel miserable, and all I want to do is have him take us home and curl up next to him and fall asleep. Tell him that maybe we should go the hospital. But I didn't, of course. I just couldn't take the risk of looking weak.

''I'm fine, Dal. Really.'' I surprised myself by getting that much out without vomiting. He looked at me. He looked real angry. There was a fire burning in them, a determined fire, and I could tell he just wanted me to admit so he could help. I sulked carefully; I really don't like it when people are angry with me. especially the gang. He must've noticed this tiny act of fear, because his eyes immediately softened.

''If you're lyin' to me, and I find out, I'm gonna kill you.'' He said. I nodded, fully and totally believing him.

Dally kissed my forehead and he barged into the house, me loping behind slowly. My stomach gave an immensely violent jump and I clutched at it, slowly so as not to alert anyone. It worked, and not even Dally had to stop to ask if I was okay. That was mainly because he was facing the other direction, but hey, a win is a win.

When I walked inside I noticed how cold I was. I noticed the careful shake of both hands, a small and unnoticeable movement I wondered vaguely how I hadn't noticed earlier. I placed a hand to my forehead casually, and sure enough it was blazing. Things were getting serious. I was supposed to return to the hospital if I ever had a fever worse than one hundred degrees. There was no way I could take my temperature without anyone noticing. I didn't even know where the Curtis' kept their thermometer; or if they had one at all.

How the hell could all these symptoms just begin to expose themselves now? It wasn't like they had gradually made their way up. If they had been present at all, I hadn't noticed them. Maybe I was so intoxicated with Dallas I couldn't even notice the pain my body was in. He did seem to take my mind off of things, but for me to not take any notice in symptoms such as these was simply unbelievable. Let alone impossible.

The only people who were present at the Curtis' were the Curtis' themselves. I didn't much mind, I really wasn't in the mood to deal with a load of people. Ponyboy looked up from his book and smiled at me as I entered the house. Darry was in the kitchen cooking, and Soda was seated next to Pony on the couch, his smiling eyes glued to the supposedly humorous show on television. Pony stood up and put his book on the little table placed beside the couch, it was a copy of Sherlock Holmes, and strolled over to me.

''Hey Johnny, how's it goin'?'' he patted me on the back, which made my stomach lurch, but I merely placed a hand on it and smiled, replying with the appropriate, yet wrong, answer.

''I'm good.'' I said, took a deep breath and continued, ''How're you?''

''Ah, I'm fine. Hey, how far'd ya get in _Gone with the Wind?'' _I smiled sheepishly and shook my head.

''Not too far, man.'' I suppressed a moan, ''It's kinda confusin', you know?'' He smiled and nodded, though I was positive he had no idea what I was talking about. Pony was a pretty intelligent individual, unlike me, and he probably had no problem reading _Gone with the Wind._

My stomach gave another caustic twist and I gagged. Why did I always end up like this when Ponyboy was around? I noticed the strange connection between both instances, but pushed it out of my mind as I attempted to keep the vomit from erupting out of my mouth. Pony had backed up, and was staring at me, and Dally was looking at me with an _'I told ya so'_ look. He picked me up and carried me to the bathroom as I started to gag again.

I fell to my knees before the porcelain life-saver and puked my guts out.

Dally, just like before, had immediately painted a look of pure disgust on his face. But he threw an arm around me and rubbed my back until I was finished. I was sweating even though I was freezing, and I was positive about the fever now. When I was finished, and the contents of my stomach had been flushed down the toilet, I looked over and noticed every person who occupied the house standing in the doorway staring at me. Except for Dally; he was sitting right next to me and staring at me. I sighed, a look of dread overcoming me.

Dally looked angry. His mouth was open just slightly, but his lips were parted enough for me to see his jagged teeth, each one standing up straight and perfect in his mouth. His eyes were burning again; the normal shade of sensitive blue he usually wore around me had been replaced with the standard ''hatred of the whole world'' blue he wore around most other people. His eyebrows were furrowed, and his pale blond hair seemed to cast an intimidating shadow over his burning eyes.

''Dammit, Johnny. Why can't you just tell me when somethin' like this is wrong? Why do you have to keep every fuckin' thing from me like I'm some fuckin' stranger to you?'' His voice was hard and cold, and it scared me. I opened my mouth to say something, but my words were replaced with more vomit, and I was soon doubled up over the toilet again. He rubbed my back, but I could tell he wasn't cooling down at all. When I finished, I pulled in a shaky breath, but didn't get much in. I only received a limited amount of oxygen, and my lungs cried and craved for more, but that was all I could get in. Each breath I took was shallow, and shaky, and disappointed my lungs gravely.

''I-I'm sorry, Dal-''

''I don't care, Johnny, you gotta stop keepin' things from me!'' His voice was raising, ''This could be a big deal, Johnny. Didn't you pay any attention to the fuckin' doctors? You could fucking _die. _And then where the fuck do you think I'd be? Where would I be if you died? I wouldn't be anywhere, Johnny, I wouldn't be fucking anywhere. You can't just keep this kinda stuff from me, god dammit.'' He stood up and left the bathroom.

I felt hot tears spilling from my eyes and I didn't care if the gang was there to see them fall.

_A/N:_

_Thanks for reading~! I hope you liked the chapter. I'm dealing with a pretty bad round of writer's block, so I don't know if this really met your all's expectations, but I sure hope it did. Whoever can diagnose Johnny before next chapter gets a free scholarship to doctor college. Haha, but yeah. Hope you liked this chapter. _

_PLEASE REVIEW. I AM NOW RATHER ADDICTED TO REVIEWS. THEY ARE MY DRUG._

_Stay gold and stay tuff,_

_-A-T-S-G-_


	16. End

All I Crave is Mercy Chapter 15

I sat in the bathroom after Dally left for what felt like hours. Minutes which believably disguised themselves as hours, which in reality were ticking away as quickly as seconds, dragged on durably, and caused me unbearable torture. After everyone had finally gained enough sense to leave me be, they had shut the door to the bathroom and left me to drown, alone, in my emotions and pain.

Ah, pain. There's that uncomfortably familiar word again. It seems to string itself into my sentences, and it's laced rather thoroughly around my vocabulary. At first glance, it's a rather small word; for it possesses only four letters. But it's an unbearably long and ominous word if you look at it properly. If you know what it feels like to be exposed to raw pain, you suddenly learn that there is an evil in the word which you are right to cower from. An evil which should promote fear; fear being another immensely powerful word, even if it does lack a proper amount of letters.

I sat before the toilet in a kneeled position, with my forehead rested on the cold white exterior. Perspiration ran down my face, some of which dripped off the end of my nose after colliding with a lost tear. They both mixed together, creating an unbearably human concoction which rained from my skin and dropped worthlessly into the toilet bowl, which then proceeded to stir unhealthily together with the vomit I hadn't the strength to flush. My throat felt raw and it ached and scratched as I swallowed my distasteful saliva. I'd get lost in my thoughts eventually, only to be woken up by the urge to vomit. I couldn't, however, no matter how desperately I purged, because I simply had nothing left to give.

I'd sit there, helplessly and pathetically gagging, my arms wrapped around my abdomen, my back curving in mock reflection to my stomach, which ached dully.

I heard footsteps echo wearily outside the door, and I closed my eyes, hoping no-one would come in. just as I decided I should've locked the door, someone opened it and walked in somewhat cautiously. I heard a sigh escape their lips as they paused to look at me.

''Johnny.''

It was Dally. He inched his way over and sat down beside me, keeping all his limbs confined to a certain area, as if he were staying inside his own little bubble, and he was afraid to touch me. I backed into the corner of the bathroom, and curled up; my legs pulled up closely to my chest, and I wrapped my arms around my abdomen, resting my head on my knees.

''Johnny, man, I'm sorry.''

I didn't look at him. My head remained unmoved on my knees. I honestly didn't have the energy to move my head.

''I didn't mean to snap at you. I really didn't. I was just… I don't know. I hate how ya keep shit from me. All the important shit, you just go and keep from me. You don't tell me when you feel bad; ya just keep to yourself. And I gotta know this shit, man. You could be real sick. And the doctors said if you got real sick, you'd die. And you… you can't die, Johnny, you just can't. I wouldn't be here without you, Johnny. And if you were to leave me- Fuck. I don't even know.'' He pulled in a deep breath which, to my surprise, almost seemed to quiver. I looked up at Dally. He sat with his knees pulled to his chest now, though they weren't held as tightly as I know sat, and his head was in his hands. His blond hair swooped down in front of his eyes, blocking from me any sort of hint to what he was feeling. I just stared at him. He looked like a wreck. The exact opposite of what I had seen just earlier.

''Look, Johnny, you're all I have left now. You're it. You're where it begins and where it ends for me, because I seriously don't have shit. I don't have parents. I don't have a family. I just have you. But you know what?'' He looked up at me. His eyes weren't bloodshot, but I witnessed a tear slide down his cheek before he brushed it away.

Dallas Winston was crying. For me.

''You know what? It doesn't even bother me. My old man doesn't give a shit about me, I'll bet he doesn't even know I'm gone. Sure, I've got the gang. But their company only goes so far, ya know, man? So that leaves you. You're all I have. And you're probably all I'll _ever_ have. But you're all I need.''

Tears slithered down my cheeks down. No-one had ever made me feel as loved as Dallas Winston. No-one. Ever. He was what filled the huge, gaping hole in my life. He was what held together all the cracks in my reality. He fixed everything. And he was always there for me. I realized now that he always would be. He wouldn't leave me again. He would stay here. With me.

''And I'm so sorry. I'm sorry I snapped at you. I'm sorry I left you all alone while you were sick. I'm sorry Buck hurt you when you went to his house to get me. I'm sorry your dad's a piece of shit. And I'm sorry I just said that, I know you don't like me saying shit like that, but it's the truth. And I'm sorry for everything I've ever done to you that hurt you in any way. I'm sorry.''

He looked at me. His eyes were wide in anxiety; he was waiting for my answer. His hair was all in his face, and it cast a lonesome shadow over his elvish features. Another, more noticeable tear dribbled down from his lamenting eyes, and I realized how hurt he looked. I'd never seen Dally look so pathetic. So alone. So hurt. So… like me.

I had scooted over slowly and wrapped my arms around him. He returned the gesture, and I buried my face in his shirt.

''I love you Dallas Winston.''

_/_

_When all was done, and all was forgotten, Dallas Winston remained in the hospital room. He sat beside the bed Johnny Cade had died in, and he cradled his head in his hands. Tears ran depressingly from his raining eyes, which swam with a great sorrow. Whimpers escaped his lips, and echoed through the deserted hospital room._

_Johnny Cade had died of the one thing every doctor had warned them of, and he now remained defeated in the morgue of the hospital. If one were to journey down into the deserted morgue, they'd spot him immediately. The emaciated body of a helpless sixteen year old; one whose parents had forgotten him, and would never be attending his funeral. One whose life was one disaster after another. One who had had life thrown on him at an unbearably young age, and who was more familiar with the feeling of pain than any other his age._

_Dallas Winston travelled from the hospital to his home, where he knew he had a gun resting silently in a drawer. Grief seemed to drown out every other sense, disabling him from the world as tears snaked down his pale cheeks, and sorrow smeared itself in his dull eyes. _

_Johnny Cade was the only thing Dallas Winston had ever loved. _

_And now he was gone. _

_And there was no getting him back._

_He entered the house and made his way to the chest in the back of the gloomy room. He remembered vaguely the last time he had entered the small room. Johnny had been with him. He remembered seeing the look of disgusted surprise in his looming black eyes, and how he had assured Dallas that he was fine with staying here even though it was so obvious that he was not. _

_Dallas Winston drew the gun from the darkest corner of the drawer, and with his Johnny Cade sitting silently within his thoughts, he shoved it far into his throat._

_And he pulled the trigger._

A/N:

And so the fic ends. Thanks so much for reading! I'm really sorry I ended this so abruptly, you probably really hate me for it, but I recently thought of a prompt which I am itching to write out, so yeah. It will be about the Outsiders, and Dallas will be a main character in it.

So anyway, PLEASE REVIEW, tell me what you thought of the fic, tell me if I did good or not. I'd really appreciate it.

Stay gold and stay tuff,

Your's truly,

-Attempting-To-Stay-Gold-


End file.
